Jasey Rae
by Spasmplasm
Summary: Dan relates the story of how he and Phil broke up. A few swear words. Inspired by the song Jasey Rae by All Time Low.
1. Jasey Rae (Part 1)

It is raining.

Cold and heavy, drop after drop hits the window in front of my face, streaking the glass and blurring the street below.

I shake my head and stand up. Sitting here is doing nothing.

But what _can _I do? He'd made it very clear. Very clear that he was gone.

"Phil," I whisper. My throat tightens. Why is it so difficult to say? It's just a name.

Just a name.

But it isn't, and I know it. It's a name that brought me all the happiness in the world. It's a name that consoled, comforted and supported me more times than I could count. It's a name that was always there, my first port of call, my best friend.

It's a name that is no longer mine to speak.

I swallow hard and close my eyes in an attempt to avoid the tears, but it's too late. I feel the warm, salty beads streak from under my eyelids and drop off my chin. Why bother to stop them.

_Your fault, your fault. _My thoughts won't leave me alone. They're swallowing me, smothering me. I shove my hands over my mouth and breathe in short, panicked gasps. Of course, it's my fault, I know that. I only wish it wasn't.

_TWO DAYS EARLIER_

I sighed and put down the phone. Phil was ill for the second day in a raw, leaving me at work all alone. I didn't mind that particularly, it wasn't like I didn't like anyone else there. But Phil always made things a little more entertaining.

I left the room, shaking my head. "He's still ill," I called. From the room next door I heard a groan.

"You'll have to work on it yourself, then. Don't worry, I'm sure he'll just follow along on Sunday. If he's better."

"Yeah, ok. Sure."

Humming softly, I closed the door and jogged down the stairs. The day was hot and I was thirsty. I'd start the work in a minute. But I did feel weird doing it on my own. Why was Phil ill _again?_ I didn't like working on the shows alone, I was always scared I'd do something wrong and overstep the line. Phil was the careful one, I was more reckless. Together, we balanced each other out.

The kitchen was a small but modern room near the bottom of the building. I reached the bottom of the stairs opposite the kitchen and stopped. The door had been pushed ajar to allow air to circulate around the building, but that wasn't what stopped me. There was a tall man inside, bending over the sink. I frowned. I was sure I'd never seen him before. That wasn't normally unusual, but if he was my senior he shouldn't really be making his own coffee, it should be got for him, and new runners were generally not allowed in this building.

I raised my hand to my mouth and coughed lightly.

The man at the sink jumped and dropped the mug he'd been washing up. "Oh I'm sorry!" He laughed nervously. "I didn't see you."

I laughed. "Don't worry. I, um, haven't seen you round here before. What's your name?"

"Adam," He said. "Adam Sanchez. I'm a new runner."

"Hey Adam. I'm-"

"I know who you are. You're Dan Howell."

I raised my eyebrows.

"Sorry." He grinned sheepishly. "I've seen your show. Nice work, by the way."

"Um, thanks." I smiled. "You want a coffee or something?"

"No thanks, dude."

"Ok."

We stayed in silence while I made the coffee. I didn't know what he wanted; was he a fan? Did he want a picture? Should I be talking to him? Shit. If Phil was here he'd know.

When I was done, I picked up my mug and backed out towards the door. "Nice to meet you, Adam."

"Yeah, and you." He reached out his hand with the intent of shaking mine, but just as he did so I began to turn away. His hand shot out and hit the coffee mug, spilling hot liquid everywhere.

"Shit!" He muttered. "I'm sorry man. I'm sorry. Here-"

He grabbed a tea towel from the counter and lifted up my T- Shirt. "This should get it off. I'm sorry. I'm sure you really didn't need this…it's not like you need to be any hotter, after all." He flashed me a grin.

"What?"

Smirking, he dropped my T- Shirt. "You heard me."

_Shit. _"Yeah. Um. Adam, I'm flattered, but I, uh, have a boyfriend.."

The instant it was out of my mouth I regretted it. "I mean- I'm in a relationship-"

But he was already smiling again. "A boyfriend, is it?"

"Yes."

"Would he be, by any chance, the illustrious Philip Lester?"

I narrowed my eyes. "That's none of your business."

"I'm sorry." Suddenly he was back to the sweet, smiley man he'd been before. Innocently, he reached out and put his finger onto my face, slowly tracing my jawline. His eyes, a swirling caramel blend, drew me in, rendering me useless. He was so close that I could smell his aftershave, see the stubble on his chin. Coming closer, closer…

"No!" I shouted. "No. I won't. I _can't._"

His face fell. "Dan, come on."

"No."

"It's just a bit of fun, Dan. Come on. He's not ever going to know unless you tell him." He leaned in again, his eyes half closed and glinting in the sunlight.

The second time, I didn't resist.


	2. Jasey Rae (Part 2)

I closed the door quietly behind me and resisted the strong urge to simply crumple to the floor below it. The day had been long and wearing. I was pretty sure that the radio show was going to hit and all time low this week. But that wasn't what was bothering me, not really. It was the kiss.

I kept telling myself that I tried to push him away, tried to reason with him, but I knew that that wasn't entirely true. Not that second time. He had somehow drawn me in, tricked me into feeling that something for him, that something that I'd only ever felt for one person before. And now I was scared. I was scared that I wouldn't be able to keep it a secret. Scared that _he _wouldn't keep it a secret.

But most of all, I was scared that what I felt for him wouldn't go away.

_Don't be stupid, Dan. It was a fling. You didn't even really have those feelings for him then, did you?_

_Did you?_

I shook my head furiously, as though to displace my thoughts. This wasn't helping anything. The best thing to do, I decided, was to go and see Phil, check he was ok, and then pretend that I also felt ill and go to bed. That way I wouldn't have to talk to him.

Of course, I hadn't really counted on what happened when I got upstairs.

"Hey, Phil, I said softly as I entered the living room, where he was sprawled across the sofa, a hot water bottle on his chest and a blanket wrapped tightly around him.

He turned his head and smiled. "How was work?"

"It was ok. Not as good as if you'd been there of course. But it was ok. I mean, this radio show will definitely be lacking in some of your ingenious ideas….." I trailed off. He wasn't listening anymore. Instead, he had fixed me with a filthy glare.

"It was ok?" He echoed.

I swallowed. "Yeah."

"Well, it seems to me like you had a pretty good day."

"Oh yeah? And how would you know?"

He laughed. "The internet, of course. Around midday some guy called Adam Sanchez tweeted, saying he'd just kissed some "hot piece of ass." Do you know what that hot piece of ass was called?"

I didn't reply.

"His name was Dan. Dan Howell."

I closed my eyes and buried my face deep into my hands. But Phil wasn't done yet.

"It's caused quite a stir with our fans, I'll tell you that. I would never have known if one of them hadn't tweeted me about it in the first place. So Dan, I'd like to know. Is this true?"

I said nothing.

"Is. It. True." His voice was rock hard. When I looked up, my face was streaked with tears.

"I'm so sorry," I whispered.

I won't write about the rest of the argument. I think it's pretty obvious what happened. He shouted. I yelled. We both cried. There wasn't a moment where he suddenly decided it was all ok, or a moment where he forgave me because his love was stronger than his hate. If you ever cheat, there won't be that moment. The betrayal of trust takes away all the love they feel for you and replaces it with cold, hard anger. The truth is, your relationship will never be the same again, even if after some miracle they do forgive you. You've broken it irreparably. And the worst bit, I think, is that every single ounce of the pain you feel is your own fault.

_PRESENT_

So now I'm left here. Alone. I think the worst bit about this is that I _know _this is my fault. I know how easily I could have prevented it. But I didn't, and this is the consequence.

I don't know what Phil will do now. It's up to him, I suppose. Maybe he'll move out, go somewhere new. Forget about me, it's what I deserve. But it's not what I want. I miss him desperately. I miss his touch, his voice, his kiss. I miss the way he laughed, I miss how he used to mess up his hair when he felt self-conscious.

But he's not mine anymore. Maybe someday I will find him again, and maybe he'll find it in his heart to forgive me for my terrible mistakes. But right now, he is no longer mine. And I fear that the guilt I feel will never leave me.


End file.
